Last year I built a Courage Machine, but I thought it might be noisy and was too afraid to turn it on. So I coated it with glue, covered it with cat hair, mounted it on my wall, and started claiming it was an exotic animal I killed on a Safari in Africa. I'd like to believe people believe me, on account of it being so strange that it has to be true.
Something that is said with the word “YOU” is truly heard by a very few and, that too, listened only of someone who leads a very simple life and regularly says the things refreshingly new because “You” has a tone and texture of an ADVICE, which everyone tries to give than take from others as almost all consider themselves to be WISE.
REFLECTIONS OF A MIRRORBeautiful is he who recognizes what is truly beautiful,Even if the surface is ugly.Truthful is he who says what is true,Even if the truth is ugly.Ugly is he who measures beauty by its exterior,Without first weighing the interior.And ugly is the man who judges harshly what he sees looking out,Without first judging what he sees in the mirror.
At some point they show their true colorsAfter the break upAfter the trial After the contract is signed and brokenTheir true colors stinkThese daysI find it hard to get along with themI want to push them until the colors come out And sometimes I hate them so much, I push and seeI do the same to the ones I likeThe ones I don’t care about I smile at real nice
Then you don't know. You can't know what it feels like to meet a person and suddenly know without a doubt that the whole purpose of your life so far-every choice you made, every twist of fate along the way-was just a journey to get you to that person. My life started when I met Clea. Every minute without her is just killing time until we can be together again.
He didn’t know if that was really true or not, but he discovered something which was tremendously liberating: he didn’t care. He was very tired of thinking and thinking and still not knowing. He was also tired of being frightened, like a man who has entered a cave on a lark and now begins to suspect he is lost. Stop thinking about it, then. That’s the solution.
I'm about to make a wild, extreme and severe relationship rule: the word busy is a load of crap and is most often used by assholes. The word "busy" is the relationship Weapon of Mass Destruction. It seems like a good excuse, but in fact in every silo you uncover, all you're going to find is a man who didn't care enough to call. Remember men are never to busy to get what they want.
Rayna found a makeover show on TV-one of those where they sneak up on unsuspecting people going about their business, accost them with camera, and tell them they look like crap in front of a zillion people, making them cry, then build them back up with a new makeup job they won't be able to replicate and outfits so intricate they'll never remember how to fit them together. It was perfect.
সত্য কথাগুলো সব সময় বক্তৃতার মতো শোনায়, মিথ্যাগুলো শোনায় কবিতার মত।
भगवानलाई पनि पाप लाग्ने भए सवैभन्दा धेरै पाप उनैलाई लाग्थ्यो होला ।
Je pravda denní a pravda noční. Pravda nemocných a pravda zdravých. Pravda dětí a pravda dospělých. Pravda mužů a pravda žen. Pravda živých a pravda umírajících. Pravda milujících a pravda nenávidících. Pravda šťastných a pravda nešťastných.
They told me that nothing was a sin, just a poor life choice. Poor impulse control. That nothing is evil. Any concept of right versus wrong, according to them, is merely a cultural construct relative to one specific time and place. They said that if anything should force us to modify our personal behavior it should be our allegiance to a social contract, not some vague, externally imposed threat of flaming punishment.
Monster a person though monster not human.Monster like music. Like Beatles! Like Schumann!World full of stupid. World full of noise.Monster feel ANGRY. No birthday. No joys.World full of JUNK monster not comprehend.What is a childhood? What is a friend?Monster and human both want the same.Want conversation. Want love. WANT NO PAIN.If monster speak heart: monster life only worsen.Monster not human: BUT MONSTER A PERSON!
The immature conscience is not its own master. It simply parrots the decisions of others. It does not make judgments of its own; it merely conforms to the judgments of others. That is not real freedom, and it makes true love impossible, for if we are to love truly and freely, we must be able to give something that is truly our own to another. If our heart does not belong to us, asks Merton, how can we give it to another?
Fury ignited behind my breastbone , a hot glow like coals blooming into something sharp and dangerous. It was the same old crap- someone thinking they can push you around because you're young, because you're helpless. You had to just sit there and take it because you were under a certain number , because you weren't a real person yet; you could be picked up and dropped like a toy, left behind or thrown away...
